To My Son

by John E. Scipione
(Littleton, CO)

When you were born I was scared I would not be good enoughA good enough father, teacher or providerI was scaredI was young back then but wise enough to knowNo one would love you more than me or protect you from the unknown

I’m tired of hearing there is nothing I can doThat I should be proud and confident that I did the best I couldThere is no consolation for watching you march towards a path Fraught with peril and a world turned upside downThere is no consolation for not knowing why things are as they are and why you are youThere is no consolation for not knowing what you’re doing or whether you’ll make it through

I’m tired of pretending everything will be alrightThat you’ll just wake up one day and give up your fightTo prove you are a man when you still have so much to learnTo repeat the same mistakes again and again instead of looking for the lightTo stubbornly listen to the beat of your different drum Even when guidance and support abounds and there is no reason for you to run

I’m not quite sure what or how much there really is to sayI’m at a loss for words and beside myself with dismayMy heart is broken and my spirit has grown weakIt hurts too much to look into your eyes to find the answers I seekSo for now I’ll just pretend... That one day you’ll come home again full of joy and smilesMy prodigal son